I was once an orphan, saved from begging in the city by the Lady of the Commander. She took me in, gave me a meal, and found me a job at the manor.

However, with my lowly status and shallow connections, I was soon assigned to the Laundering Chamber, where I spent my days washing endless piles of clothes.

Rosemary had once been a noblewoman, but her family was embroiled in a corruption scandal, and their estate was confiscated. Both her parents passed away, and with no one to protect her, she was sold into servitude by greedy relatives.

She was beautiful and poised, originally assigned to serve in the ladies' chambers. But her lofty pride and arrogance led her to refuse any menial tasks. She preferred to recite obscure poetry in the garden or cry silently under the moon at night.

The steward didn’t like her, so he eventually sent her to the Laundering Chamber, where she was paired with me.

Rosemary was two years older than me. In my previous life, I treated her as an older sister, always considering her needs and making plans on her behalf.

To make life easier in the manor, I befriended everyone, even flattering the stewards and other servants, going so far as to spend my meagre salary on favours.

Rosemary looked down on me for my sycophantic behaviour. She often told me, “Fate is predetermined. What belongs to you cannot be taken by anyone, and what does not belong to you, no matter how hard you strive, will never be yours. You’re only losing your dignity by scheming like this.”

At the time, I thought she was truly noble, her words carrying the weight of culture and grace, commanding respect from everyone.

Even the other servants at the manor held her in esteem due to her extraordinary demeanour.

Thus, she continued to play the role of the aloof noblewoman, refusing to compete for anything, handling matters with an air of indifference.

Meanwhile, I acted as her loyal servant, running around on her behalf, even securing things she hadn’t lifted a finger for.

I remember once, during a manor banquet, I accidentally found a valuable Pearl Dangler and handed it over to her for safekeeping. But she claimed the credit in front of the Lady of the Commander, who was so impressed by her “composure and reliability” that she made an exception and moved Rosemary to serve directly by her side.

I confronted her, but she simply replied, “All I did was hand over the earring to the Lady of the Commander. She thought it was my achievement, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Since the Lady of the Commander has assigned me to serve her, she must have recognised my qualities and temperament. Liana, everyone has their own fate. If you weren’t so eager to compete, this fortune could have been yours too.”

I grabbed the edge of her dress, begging her to explain to the Lady of the Commander, at least to have me reassigned from the Laundering Chamber.

But she forcefully pulled away from me. “Liana, why are you still so competitive? Fate favours those who know how to keep their place, not those who demand things from others.”

Later, through my own efforts, I finally managed to secure the opportunity to work in Master Henry’s courtyard.

But Rosemary accused me of scheming to get close to Henry, insinuating that I had inappropriate intentions.

I tried to explain, but she put on a “for your own good” act, saying, “Liana, you need to understand your place. Don’t try to climb too high, or you’ll not only ruin yourself, but also bring shame upon Master Henry.”

Her words completely ruined my reputation at the manor. Lady of the Commander and Henry were both deeply disappointed in me, and I was expelled from the manor. Yet, fate didn’t stop there.

Soon after, a rebellion broke out in the capital. The general led the king’s forces to quell the uprising, leaving the manor without any leadership. A group of rebels attacked the manor where the general was staying.

I disguised myself as a servant and barely escaped the city to deliver a message. But when I returned, wounded and with reinforcements, Rosemary accused me of being a traitor, even claiming I had brought the rebels to the manor.

I was helpless in my defence, and the enraged guards and townsfolk beat me to death. I died with a heart full of injustice and hatred, my spirit unable to find peace.

Yet, Rosemary was rewarded for her “loyalty” and taken in as an adopted daughter by the Lady of the Commander.

Not only did she rid herself of her servant status, but she was also betrothed to a young officer under the general’s command. A few years later, that officer distinguished himself in battle, was ennobled by the king, and Rosemary became a baroness, living a life of wealth and luxury.

In her final years, she reflected on her life with gratitude, saying, “I thank God for this life. I never competed or fought for anything. The gentle wind came on its own, and I simply waited for the flowers to bloom.

“God rewarded me with only good things. I have no regrets in this life.”

Her lack of regret was built upon my shattered bones, and even at death, she never showed an ounce of gratitude or remorse towards me.

With resentment clinging to me, I shed blood tears, letting out a heart-wrenching scream. The hatred in my heart soared to the heavens.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to that year—the moment when she first arrived at the Laundering Chamber, and we met for the first time.